


Tinderbox

by wearemany



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018) RPF, Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - The Bodyguard (1992) Fusion, Bodyguard x The Bodyguard, M/M, Missing Scene, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearemany/pseuds/wearemany
Summary: Missing scene from Nightwatch.(This won't make much sense if you haven't read that, but if you insist it's basically a Bodyguard x The Bodyguard AU where Taron is Taron, Richard is David Budd if he got therapy sooner, and Mack is Idris Elba's character from Bastille Day if he'd made any sense and saved David in Afghanistan.)
Relationships: Taron Egerton/Richard Madden
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Tinderbox

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Nightwatch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21174521) by [drinkingstars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkingstars/pseuds/drinkingstars). 

> _“Mack told me two things in the car that day. One was never to startle you when you’re sleeping.” Richard’s eyelashes flutter shut, and something unfamiliar, warm and bright, clenches in his chest._
> 
> _“Alright. And the other?”_
> 
> _Taron shakes his head softly. “Can’t tell the other.”_

Taron’s sat way in the back of a big SUV. Richard and Mack talk in low voices in the front seat. He’s texting his mam but his hands are shaking too much to even get fixed by autocorrect so he sets the phone down and closes his eyes, inhales and exhales. 

His body still tingles, nerve endings lit with adrenaline and muscle memory. The stubby carpet of the car floor brushed roughly against his knuckles and wrist on one side. Richard’s heavy body pressing him down on the other, short breaths hot and fast against Taron’s ear as Mack steered them away from the shooter. 

Richard’s weight was heavier and more intimate than made any kind of sense in the moment, but the wrongness of Taron’s train of thought was a welcome distraction from the fear and shock so he followed it, let it overtake his stream of consciousness, hurried himself down the rabbit hole like this was a rehearsal and he might uncover some unexpected key to unlock a character.

Richard’s heavy body on top of his, pressing him down into the backseat, his muscled thighs hard against Taron’s legs. His bulky Kevlar vest sharply poking Taron’s ribs and sternum as they jostled around a turn, still hugged together through the shifting center of gravity, like riding a motorcycle.

Taron allowed his head to roll loose with the curve, too, and his face came to rest in Richard’s neck, warm sweat-sweet skin, and what had felt a tad intimate was suddenly, shockingly obscene, enough to make Taron gasp aloud, lips moving just millimeters from Richard’s throat.

“You’re okay,” Richard said, low, and Taron could feel him speak it in his chest at least as well as he could hear over the sound of the road.

Right. The road. The car. The driver, Mack, who Richard trusted to take them out of whatever shitshow they’d just barely dodged. Taron swallowed hard against a surge of bitter-tasting saliva flooding his mouth and Richard pushed himself up, away a little.

So much for that rabbit hole.

Taron sighs and this time tries to follow the flare of the tingling sensation, fingertips to wrist joint up the inside of his arms, into the crook of his elbow and up into his armpit, around the top of his shoulder and then down his spine.

The heavy click of a car door opening, then Richard’s voice as he leans back to tell Taron he’s to stay put for a few while Richard checks to be sure the team at the house has cleared things to his satisfaction. “Mack’s staying too,” he adds before carefully closing the door behind him.

Mack meets his eyes in the rear-view mirror, then twists in the driver’s seat to look Taron up and down, assessing. Taron sits up straighter, tries to pass whatever test this is even though rationally he knows that’s rubbish, that he’s alive and this man is quite clearly too professional not to help him stay that way no matter what he may find lacking.

“Dickie’s got this,” Mack says, and for a moment Taron almost asks _who?_ before he remembers.

“I know,” he says, sticking to safe ground. Richard trusts Mack and Mack trusts his Dickie and Taron has no fucking idea what’s going on but he’d like to stay within arm’s reach of at least one of them for the forseeable future.

“You do what he says and you’ll be fine,” Mack says.

“I _am_,” Taron snaps off, tone getting away from him.

“I know,” Mack says. “But here’s what he can’t say, and you need to hear it, okay? Can you do that?”

Taron looks down at his lap. “Okay.”

“I know you’ve had a rough day,” Mack starts, and waits as if Taron’s going to make light.

“Tell me,” he says, meeting Mack’s eye.

“You’ve had a rough day but Dickie’s had -- he’s seen much worse. And he’s a good man with a good heart but I’m not sure he knows how good. No, I know he doesn’t. He’ll fight it but he’s worth it, hear me?”

The tingling is a full-body fire now, face hot and heart thudding. Taron doesn’t know how to take that another way, some other way than what he hopes Mack means, and Mack’s glaring at him like _this_ is the real test so Taron summons every speck of adrenaline he’s still feeling and says, steady as he can, “I hear you.”

“Good,” Mack says. “Good.”

They’re both quiet a while. Taron looks to the house, where Richard’s talking to someone who’s guarding the front.

“One other thing,” Mack says, and Taron turns back to him. “When he’s sleeping, let him sleep.”

Taron isn’t sure Richard does sleep, but he bites down that answer and only second does he realize Mack must know, and must also believe Taron will have reason to.

“Don’t be cute,” Mack warns, words fast and lethal, “don’t be clever and wake him up, not unless you like a good strangle by a startled soldier who’s not sure where he is.”

“Okay,” Taron says finally, when it seems Mack’s stopped. “Anything else?”

Mack laughs, hard and surprised, and slides back behind the wheel. “That’s enough,” he says.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to drinkingstars for letting me tell her what her story should be, over and over, and then letting me tell her what she missed.


End file.
